


A Promise Kept

by ellebeedarling



Series: Things Unexpected [1]
Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: A LOT of Angst, A little bit of fluff, Brief mentions of child abuse, Coming of Age, Explicit Language, F/M, Foster Care, Hopeful Ending, Underage Drinking, Underage Drug Use, brief mentions of underage sex, despite all that other crap, earthborn shepard backstory, first romance, growing up on the streets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-07
Updated: 2018-11-07
Packaged: 2019-08-20 05:48:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 8
Words: 9,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16550102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ellebeedarling/pseuds/ellebeedarling
Summary: John Shepard was orphaned at the age of seven and found himself living on the streets of Seattle at the age of ten. His destiny seemed to be a life of crime or an early death, but a flippant promise and a chance encounter are all it takes to set him on a new path.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a prequel to Things Unexpected - my mshep/James Vega story from last year.
> 
> All of the ugly things in the tags are mentioned briefly, in passing, without going into heavy detail. Trigger Warnings will be posted at the beginning of each chapter. 
> 
> The story follows John's life from the age of 7 to 17.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John is orphaned and bounced around from home to home.
> 
> Trigger Warnings for Ch. 1: 
> 
> Mentions of child abuse with some mild descriptions.

_ Seattle, 2161 _

 

Johnny couldn't remember ever having been this scared in his life. The little brown teddy bear Dad had gotten him for Christmas was clutched tightly in his arms as he huddled in a corner, crying his eyes out. The people from the ambulance rolled mom away, and he wondered how she could breathe with the sheet over her face.

 

Mrs. Willoughby, the nice lady next door, came to take him home with her for the night. She was the one who told him that Mom was dead, that Dad and Robbie were sick in the hospital. Even the warm, chocolate chip cookies Mrs. Willoughby made for him that night tasted strange and metallic in the wake of his world being turned on its end.

 

Days later he was sent home from school with a fever, and he wasn't sure how much time had passed from the time Mrs. Willoughby dropped him off at the hospital and the time he'd woken up feeling weak and dizzy and having no idea where he was. A tall doctor in a white lab coat informed him that both his parents and his brother were dead and that a woman would be coming by later to talk to him about his future. At seven years of age, John Shepard, had no concept of the future, except as it related to meal time, bedtime, and school tomorrow. He took a moment to wonder where he'd live now, and who would take care of him.

 

Sara was his foster care case worker, that's what she told him anyway. He liked her. She reminded him of Mom with her yellow hair and soft skin. He'd never seen mom wear clothes like these, though – a skin tight black skirt that looked like it made it difficult for the lady to walk, and spiky-heeled shoes that gave him the same impression as the skirt. Mom had one yellow dress that she wore when she felt good. On those days she'd dab on her sweet, flowery perfume and dance with Dad in the living room to old jazz songs, then Dad would kiss her on the mouth and tell Johnny to take Robbie to the playground for awhile. Those were always the best days, because Mom and Dad were both happy. More often than not, Mom was in her bed in a tattered nightgown, however, unable to dance or kiss Dad or put on the yellow dress.

 

He didn't like Sara quite as much when she left him at the Crane's house with a ratty, blue suitcase he'd never seen before containing clothes of the same description – all of them too small or too large, none of them fitting his skinny body just right. Mr. and Mrs. Crane gaped at him expectantly, though he had no idea what they could be expecting. Their children eyed him with disdain, and Johnny hugged the suitcase to his chest since his trusty teddy bear had disappeared during his hospital stay.

 

Mr. and Mrs. Crane tried to be nice to him, but the children, Tonya and Sammy, did not. After six months with the Crane's, Johnny had had enough of being blamed for Sammy's mistakes, and let him know it by punching him in the nose so hard it broke and blood squirted all over Johnny's face. He spent the night with Sara that night, and the woman took him out for pizza, which was nice except that she got onions on it. Johnny just picked them off and hoped that Sara would let him stay with her forever.

 

She didn't.

 

The Fleming's were next. An older couple with no children. Johnny had hope that this family would be different, but his hopes were dashed the second night when Mr. Fleming got drunk and knocked Johnny into the coffee table, leaving hideous purple bruises on his rib cage. He endured for a week before telling the principle at the school about the abuse. Sara came to get him again. That was on his eighth birthday.

 

His life devolved into an endless string of short stays in various homes. He always had to leave after only a few weeks or months for one reason or another. Sometimes it was because the children were determined to have their parents back to themselves. Others it was because the parents felt like they were in over their heads in trying to deal with an increasingly angst ridden boy whose grades were suffering because he had no stability in his life, and who responded to all the stress by getting into near constant fights at school.

 

On his tenth birthday, Sara picked him up from school and took him out for pizza again. She always took him for pizza when he was getting kicked out of the house he'd been living in. “Am I not going back to the Marshes?” Johnny asked, picking all the onions off his pizza and scowling because Sara knew he didn't like onions and she'd ordered them anyway.

 

“ No, Johnny. They asked to have you removed from the home. You hit their son?”

 

“ He stole money from Mrs. Marsh and blamed it on me,” the boy said sullenly.

 

“ Johnny, why does this keep happening to you?”

 

“ I don't know,” John admitted. “I don't do nothing to them, but they don't like me. The kids... they don't want me there. They take my stuff and try to get me in trouble so their parents won't want me anymore. I just... can I come live with you, Sara? You're the only grown up I really know. You like me, right?”

 

Sara turned her sad, green eyes on the young boy. “I'm sorry, Johnny. I do like you, but that's not how the foster system works.”

 

“ Then the foster system sucks and I hate it!” He shouted, banging his fists on the table.

 

Sara sighed, “You can come stay with me tonight, but tomorrow, you're going to a new home. The Grimes'.” 

 

Johnny felt the tears welling in his eyes, and he let them fall. He couldn’t understand why adults had to be so complicated, why his life should be so different from that of his peers. He tried to be good even though he knew he let his temper get the better of him more often than not. All he wanted was to be loved. It didn’t feel like too much to ask for.

 

“I got you a birthday present,” Sara said, passing him a small box.

 

He swiped his eyes with the sleeves of his dingy sweatshirt and grinned at her, knowing that was what she expected of him. Opening the box, his sapphire eyes widened in excitement. “An omnitool?”

 

“ Figure you're old enough to have your own,” she said, grinning. “But Johnny, you're going to have to follow the Grimes' rules about using it, okay? And don't be looking up bad stuff on the extranet.”

 

“ What kinds of bad stuff?”

 

“ Never mind,” Sara murmured. “Want to go get ice cream? It is your birthday after all.”

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Johnny joins the 10th Street Reds.
> 
> Trigger Warning: Very brief, minor mention of child abuse in first paragraph.

_ Seattle, 2164 _

 

Johnny hated the Grimes' immediately. He'd spent enough time with various foster families to recognize a child abuser at first glance. He hadn't been in their home three hours before Mr. Grimes had used him as a punching bag. The boy went to bed in pain, and cried himself to sleep. The next week brought more of the same, and Johnny was fed up. Since his parents and brother died, his life had been nothing but misery. His family had been poor, but he'd never doubted for a moment that his parents loved him. Now he couldn't even remember what it felt like to be loved.

 

A week after arriving at the Grimes', Johnny shuffled along toward his new school – the third one that year – and he spotted a boy about his age leaned against the wall of a bakery. John loved walking past the bakery. The smell of fresh baked bread always set his mouth watering. From the looks of the boy, he felt the same way. “Hey,” Johnny said, coming to a stop by the boy.

 

“ What're you lookin' at?” The boy asked.

 

“ Nothin'.” John replied. “You hungry?”

 

“ Maybe.”

 

“ I can buy you some bread... or whatever you want,” John told him.

 

“ Okay.”

 

John went into the bakery and pulled a few credits out of his pocket – his measly allowance provided to him by the state for just such occasions as this. “We'd like two cinnamon rolls, please.” He turned to the boy, “Is that okay?”

 

“ Yeah.”

 

They payed for the cinnamon rolls and took them to the park to eat them. The weather was turning warmer, spring blooming everywhere. John had always loved coming to the parks and watching the ducks, smelling the flowers in bloom that made him think of Mom and her sweet perfume. 

 

He broke off tiny pieces of the bun and tossed them to the ducks that waddled past, thankful that he wasn't sitting in a stuffy classroom at the moment. If he had been at school, he was more likely to be getting in a fight or being lectured by the teacher for not paying attention than he was learning anything. That was just how it was with him.

 

“ My name's John,” he told the kid.

 

“ Finch.”

 

“ Finch seems like a weird name,” Johnny said, licking frosting off his fingers.

 

“ It's my last name, dummy. In the Reds we don't go by our first names.”

 

“ What's the Reds?”

 

“ My gang. They take pretty good care of me, and I don't have to go to school. Plus I get paid.”

 

“ So why'd you let me pay for your cinnamon roll?”

 

“ You offered.”

 

John nodded solemnly. “They need more kids in the Reds?”

 

“ Yeah. Ace – our leader – pays us extra when we bring in new recruits.”

 

“ Would you take me to see, Ace?” Johnny asked, kicking his feet as they dangled off the bench. He had no reason not to look into it. He wasn't a good student – not because he wasn't smart, but because he didn't care. He had no family. Sara, the only person in the world he cared anything about, didn't care enough about him to really help him. He was tired of being bounced around from home to home, beat up by the people who were supposed to be caring for him. Tired of feeling like a nuisance. If he could join the Reds, he could have a real job, be on his own, take care of himself. It was really a no-brainer at this point. If the Reds took him, he'd never have to go back to the Grimes'.

 

“ Don't you have parents?”

 

“ Nope.”

 

“ What's your last name?”

 

“ Shepard. John Shepard.”

 

“ Shepard is enough,” Finch said. “Come on. I'll take you to Ace.”

 

Ace was a scary looking character with greasy black hair, dark brown eyes, and a huge scar down his left cheek. He had a gold cap on his right incisor, and Johnny had to hide his shudder when the man smiled at him. Still, Ace gave him a task to do, and told him that if he could complete it without getting caught, he would give him a job. The slimy-looking man passed him a slip of paper and told him where to take it. Finch was to follow along to make sure nothing happened to him.

 

John left the building with an odd feeling in his stomach – like this was something he shouldn't be doing – but all his life, he'd tried following the rules, and it had gotten him nowhere. Stuffing his hands in his pockets, he shuffled out of the building and down the street, keeping his head down and ducking into an alleyway whenever he saw a police officer coming. He made it to the rendezvous and waited patiently in the shadows, just like Finch had instructed him to do, for the contact to show up. The job was a simple matter of handing over the paper and waiting for the contact to scribble a response for him to carry back to Ace.

 

Finch and John made it back to Tenth Street with the paper for Ace, and John waited for his verdict. After reading the paper, Ace's skeezy smile returned, and he welcomed John into the fold. He didn't even feel guilty that night when he took his earnings from Ace and went to the pizza parlor to buy a pepperoni and bacon pizza – absolutely  _ no _ onions – all for himself.

 

He had a feeling he was going to enjoy being an independent man.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A day in the life of a street kid.
> 
> Trigger Warnings: Brief, graphic violence; Mentions of underage drug use and drinking; non-graphic mentions of an underage sexual encounter

_Seattle, 2168_

  


Shepard's head flew back when the fist connected with his nose. He could taste the blood running into his mouth, but he just grinned, and swung his own fist, connecting with the man's nose. His contacts were always underestimating him just because he was a kid. John had learned quickly how to defend himself – had learned the ins and outs of life on the street because he was determined to be a survivor. Too many kids his age ended up dead or strung out on the shit they ran for Ace. That wasn't going to happen to him.

 

A year ago, on his thirteenth birthday, he'd been officially initiated into the Reds, and had the tattoo on his forearm to prove it – a large red R with a black X over it. He thought it looked stupid, but Ace had designed the tattoos, and who was John to argue with it. Ace had given him his choice of several different drugs to try – that was their main business after all – and Shepard had settled on Hallex since he wasn't a biotic and red sand wouldn't do much for him. He'd hated every second he'd spent with the drug in his system. He'd had hallucinations for hours – seeing monsters and the decapitated ghosts of his family everywhere he'd looked. Anyone stupid enough to take that shit willingly deserved their fate.

 

The client hit the floor with a startled cry when John hit him again. “You gonna pay me or what, you stupid shit?” Shepard spat, grabbing the man by the collar, blood dripping from his nose onto the man's face.

 

“Alright, alright, shit!” The man cried, waving his hands in surrender. “Damn punk kid!” With a shaking hand, the man dug in his pocket for a handful of credits.

 

“Don't fucking try to stiff me again, you dick.” Shepard snatched the money out of the man's hand and wiped his nose on the man's shirt. “You wouldn't want to piss Ace off, now would you?”

 

Though only fourteen, Shepard was tall for his age, with long, lanky arms and legs. His face had started losing the layer of baby fat that kids carried, and he was beginning to look more like a man than a boy. Still, his marks often thought they could take advantage of him, and Shepard was anything but stupid. His ability to think quickly on his feet was one of the reasons that Ace entrusted him with some of the more delicate deliveries that even the grown-ups weren't allowed to handle. Plus he was a natural with his fists. Ace kept workout equipment for the kids to use, and Shepard made sure to utilize it as often as possible.

 

“N-no,” the man stammered. “Look, kid... d-don't tell Ace about this, okay?”

 

“You think he's not going to take one look at my face and not know exactly what the fuck happened? Don't be stupid! Just make sure it never happens again.” Shepard offered the man a hand up off the ground and turned to go. “I'll tell Ace you said you're sorry, but next time I won't be responsible for what he does to you.”

 

John strolled casually down the street away from the man, ducking into a convenience store to slip into the bathroom and clean his face up. “Damn junkies,” he muttered. “What a fucking idiot.” When he didn't look quite so horrifying, he exited the bathroom and bought a candy bar and soda before heading on down the street toward home.

 

At age fourteen, the boys in the gang were allowed to go to Pussy Cats – the strip club owned by Ace. The man's legitimate business, that kept the authorities out of his greasy, black hair. Ace treated them all to a private dance and their first beer in order to turn them all into “real men”. Most of the boys didn't really care about his reasons, they were just excited for the opportunity. John Shepard included.

 

That night, John's fourteenth birthday, he stood in front of the mirror in the room he shared with Finch and licked his fingers, trying to smoosh down the sprig of hair that always seemed to be sticking straight up on top of his head. Finch passed him a bottle of hair gel, which Shepard wrinkled his nose at but used anyway, knowing the hair wouldn't be tamed without it.

 

At the club, he was introduced to Didi – the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen in his life, blonde hair, blue eyes, and curves that made his heart stop beating. He was in love. As it turned out, Didi was only three years older than John. If the police found out that Ace was using underage girls in the club – or underage boys to run drugs for that matter – everything would be over, and every last one of them would be out on the streets, or worse, sent back into the foster care system. For that reason alone, the kids were willing to keep their damn mouths shut and do whatever Ace wanted.

 

Didi's hair was like ringlets spun from gold, and all John wanted to do for the rest of his life was run his fingers through the silken strands. When the dance was over, she crossed the room to where he stood. “You ever been kissed,” she asked, not commenting on the fact that he'd come in his pants just from watching her dance – a fact which made him love her all the more.

 

“No ma'am,” he said with a shaky voice.

 

Didi laughed, a mirthful sound that made John's chest feel tight. “You are just too damned adorable,” she said, and leaned closer to him. “Can I kiss you, Shepard?” Her voice was a husky whisper that had his insides churning, and all he could do was nod. Her hand came around the back of his neck, and she pressed her lips to his. Those lips were probably the softest things on the planet, and they tasted like strawberries. When her tongue swiped across his lips, he gasped and she slipped it into his now open mouth. Johnny moaned as their tongues touched, and he felt himself getting hard again. When Didi pulled away from him, she smiled, brushing her thumb over his cheek. “You come back to see me soon, Shepard. And when you're older, I'll kiss you again. You're going to be one hell of a heartbreaker!”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Johnny runs into an old friend. 
> 
> Trigger Warnings: Brief mentions of child abuse and underage drug dealing.

_Seattle, 2169_

 

It was drizzling rain – as it usually was in Seattle – as Shepard trudged down the street toward the house that Ace kept for him and the other kids in the Reds to live in. It wasn't a bad gig, all in all. At least now, if he got his ass whipped by somebody, he got paid for it – unlike foster care. Still, sometimes, he missed having a real family, home cooked meals, someone else to do the worrying and thinking for him.

 

He heard someone call his name and looked up to see Sara, his foster care case worker whom he hadn't seen in five years, marching straight toward him. “Don't even think about it, Johnny!” she shouted when she saw him searching around for an escape. Before he could get away, she had a hand on his arm, leading him out of the rain and into a nearby pizza parlor.

 

John didn't say anything as she ordered them a pizza with everything – including onions – but he did scowl at her. He sipped his soda as they waited for the pizza. “I've a good mind to take you back,” she said, green eyes boring holes into him.

 

“I'll just run away again,” he said truthfully, not backing down from her gaze.

 

He'd matured a lot over the years. Even with her spike heeled shoes, he was taller than her now. A light dusting of beard covered his chin and jaw, and he liked it so much he hadn't bothered to shave it off. His muscles were well defined for a child of only fifteen, because he worked out to keep himself fit.

When he took off his wet jacket and hung it on the back of his chair, Sara gasped. “Oh, Johnny,” she said, sadly, gripping his arm, and staring dolefully at the gang symbol tattooed on his forearm. “This is where you've been?”

 

“Yep,” he said, pulling his arm out of her grasp. “They take care of me. Pay me for the work I do.” The pizza arrived, and he didn't even wait for her permission to take a slice and start picking the onions off.

 

“I forgot,” she said sheepishly.

 

“S'fine,” he said, covering the slice with crushed pepper and Parmesan cheese before taking a bite. He tapped his fingers against the table nervously as he chewed. “Thanks for the pizza,” he muttered after he'd swallowed.

 

“Your birthday was yesterday,” she said, not a question. “You're fifteen now.”

 

“Yep,” he said again, taking another bite.

 

“Do anything special to celebrate?”

 

He'd gone to Pussy Cats - Ace’s ‘legitimate’ strip club - with Finch, gotten drunk off his ass, and made out with Didi when her shift had ended, but he couldn't very well tell Sara that. He wasn't legally old enough to drink or go to strip clubs, and if he told the truth, it could cause problems for Ace. Shepard wasn't stupid enough to make trouble for Ace. “Not particularly,” he said, hoping she'd let it drop.

 

“If I'd known I'd run into you, I'd have gotten you a present,” she said.

 

Shepard shrugged. “Don't need nothing,” he said. “I make good money.”

 

“Running drugs?”

 

He shrugged again. “Doin' whatever's asked of me. What do you care, anyway?” He stared sullenly at his pizza, picking the bell peppers off, more for something to do with his hands than because he didn't like them.

 

“I care for you a great deal, Johnny,” she said, and the sorrow in her voice twisted like a knife in his chest.

 

“I go by Shepard now,” he said, holding his chin up, ignoring the stinging in his chest. “I'm not a little kid anymore.”

 

He knew she was staring at the scars on his face from fights he had. He’d shaved his dark hair into a buzz cut because the rest of the guys in the gang kept teasing him about the cowlick that made him look young instead. The new hairstyle had the opposite effect, and he found the shaved head gave him a bit of a frightening edge that worked well for his chosen profession. The scar in his hairline above his left eye only enhanced the look.

 

“Yes you are, Johnny. You're too young to be involved in the gang life.”

 

“I've made it this far,” he said. “I ain't got no intentions of letting 'em kill me.”

 

“Are you taking drugs?”

 

“No,” he said, feeling angry that she'd even ask. “I see what it does to people. I ain't gonna be no damn junkie!” He brought his fist down on the table hard enough to rattle their silverware, and Sarah jumped.

 

“I didn't mean to offend you, Johnny.”

 

“It's Shepard,” he said again with venom. “Stop acting like you care. You kept putting me with those families where the kids hated me and the dads beat me. Now I live my life like I want to. I have a job and earn my own way, and I don't need no damn grown-ups telling me what to do or pretending like they care!”

 

“You're too young to live on your own,” she said again.

 

“I ain't on my own, lady. The Reds are my family now.”

 

“I could force you to go,” she said in warning.

 

“Like I said, I'd just run away again,” he told her with a careless shrug. “I ain't never going back into a foster home. I'd rather die.” He swiped at his face with a napkin and tossed it on top of his unfinished slice of pizza. “I gotta go.”

 

“Johnny, wait! At least... take the leftover food.”

 

“I don't need your fucking charity, lady. I probably make more money than you do.”

 

“I'm sorry I failed you, John- Shepard. I... just... take care of yourself, alright?”

 

“Yeah... I've gotten pretty damn good at that,” he said. His scowl and angry demeanor was setting Sara on edge, he could tell. There was a twinge of regret about that, but it was all the sentiment Shepard could muster at the moment.

 

“Can I give you my contact information? Just in case you ever need anything?”

 

He nodded and held up his omni-tool waiting for her to tell him her comm badge. “It's the one you gave me when I was ten,” he said, seeing how she eyed it. “Never bothered to get a new one, though this one is outdated and old as shit now.” He tapped the words into the 'tool before looking up at her again. “Thanks for trying, at least,” he said as kindly as he could. He felt a soft smile turning up the corners of his mouth.

 

“I just wish it would have worked,” she sighed. “I've seen too many kids like you fall through the cracks. Good kids who struggle with the life they've been given. Some of them have died, others run away and I never find them. I'm... glad to at least know you're alive, even if I don't approve of the life you've chosen at all. Have... have you ever thought about going back to school.”

 

“Pfft... hell no!” Shepard said. “Why the fuck would I want to do that? I don't need no education for the work I do. Besides, I hated school.”

 

“What about the military?”

 

He scoffed again. “Do you really see me as a soldier? Nah... I'm good. I like what I do. Like my life,” he said with a grin. “Don't worry about me. I won't end up dead. You'll see.”

 

“Well... call me then. Every so often. Let me know you're okay.”

 

“No promises,” he said. “Thanks again for the pizza.”

 

***

 

Sarah watched him leave. Gone was the little boy she'd picked up from the hospital seven years ago and brought to her home. In his place was nearly a man, tall and muscular, and walking with a swagger in his step born of confidence in who he was and what he did.

 

Johnny wasn't the only child over the years who'd begged her to take him home to stay. She would have taken them all if she could have, and Johnny in particular. She'd always felt a soft spot for him, though it was now evident to her that she'd kept it hidden from him. He didn't even think she cared about him. If only he could have known how she'd cried when he'd run away from the Grimes'.

 

She didn't want to think about the things that he had to do to survive. Obviously he was good at it. He was well fed and dressed, confirming her suspicions that he was running drugs for the gang. Only the drug runners made the kind of money to dress as nicely as Johnny. She should probably follow him, call the police, have him removed from the situation, but he'd promised her twice that he would just run away. If she interfered, it would likely cause him to lose his position within the gang and possibly get him killed. Besides, he would probably lead her on a chase all over the city to keep her from finding out where he really lived anyway.

 

She'd failed him once before, and she couldn't shake the feeling she was doing it again, but she sat with her hands in her lap as he made eye contact with her one last time through the window of the pizza parlor before moving on down the street.

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John loses his virginity and makes a promise. 
> 
> Trigger Warnings: underage sex (non-explicit or graphic); mentions of prostitution

_Seattle, 2170_

  


Deirdre Stallings was his first love. No question. John didn't even mind that her job was to show off her naked body for money. He knew the girl underneath all that, and he loved her as much as a young boy was capable of the emotion. Every time he’d gone back to Pussy Cats, he’d asked for that kiss she'd promised him until one night, six months after his fourteenth birthday, she dragged him into one of the private rooms after her shift was over and kissed him until he couldn't breathe, rubbing him through his pants until he came for her again. From that point on, they were inseparable. She was everything to him.

 

On his sixteenth birthday, John lost his virginity to Didi. By that point, Ace had forced her into prostitution, but John still didn't care. He understood as well as she did that they had to do what was necessary in order to survive the cruel world they'd been born into. That they had to stick together. That night as the sweat cooled on their bodies, and they allowed themselves to pretend that what they had together was real and lasting, Didi turned her face to his, finger trailing over the scraggly beard he'd started growing.

 

Shepard looked down and saw her green eyes blinking up at him contentedly. A dark pink blush spread across his cheeks. “Thank you,” he murmured, and Didi giggled.

 

“So sweet,” she sighed, curling into his side, resting her head on his chest. “I sometimes wish we'd met in a different world,” she said wistfully. “You're the nicest person I've ever met, John Shepard. You don't belong here.”

 

Didi always told him that, though he didn't believe her. He'd built his reputation on being tough and hard, young as he was. Ace always told him he was a scrapper. That, he believed. He'd learned to get by on his wits and his fists because life was hard and no one was going to just hand him anything out of the goodness of their hearts.

 

He chuckled, squeezing her shoulder with the arm that was wrapped around her. “Where do I belong, then?”

 

“You deserve a better life, sweetie. Your first time shouldn't have been with a prostitute.” Her voice was tired, bitter, and John used his finger and thumb on her chin to force her to look up at him.

 

“You're not a prostitute to me, Didi. You're my best friend. I've always known I wanted you to be my first. I just had to wait until you deemed me worthy,” he said with a grin.

 

“I thought you were worthy from the first moment I set eyes on you, Pretty Boy.” Pretty Boy was what Ace had taken to calling him, because he was a good looking kid. Of course, the other members of the gang had picked up on it. Finch had gotten a bloody nose the one time he'd tried to use the moniker, but from Didi's bow-tie lips, it sounded perfect. He gave her a sweet kiss, licking away the strawberry flavor she left on his lips. “I just wanted to wait until you were older. I guess I hoped you could save me from myself.”

 

He felt a wetness on his chest and realized she was crying. “I'm sorry, Didi. I wish I could be the person you want me to be, but... this is who I am – who I'm meant to be. Just a drug runner in a gang.”

 

“No!” She said vehemently. “Promise me you'll get out before it's too late!”

 

“Didi-” he started, but she cut him off.

 

“Shepard,” she leaned up on an elbow so that she could peer into his eyes, “some of us are made to wallow in shit and filth our whole lives, but some of us are born for greatness. You were made for more than this. Never forget that. When your opportunity to escape comes – and believe me, it will – take it.” Her lips quivered as she gazed at him, and he felt like he might cry with her. “Promise me you'll take it,” she whispered.

 

John rolled onto his side, coming face to face with her. “I will if you will,” he said solemnly, and held up his pinky to her.

 

Didi gave him a watery smile, looping her little finger around his own. “I promise.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A chance encounter. 
> 
> Trigger Warnings: Mentions of underage drug dealing

_Seattle, 6 months later_

 

Shepard's legs and lungs were screaming as he tore down the street. It wasn't the first time he'd been jumped by a rival gang during a delivery gone wrong, but dammit, he was ready for it to be the last. The older he got, the more of a target he became. His size, strength, and skill made him noticeable. Noticeable was the last thing a street kid wanted to be.

 

He turned his head for a split second to see how far away his pursuers were behind him, and when he looked back to the front, he collided right into a man coming out of a bar. The two of them ended up in a heap on the ground, and Shepard cursed vehemently. “Let me go, gramps,” he practically shouted, but the man kept a firm grip on his shoulders as he hauled them both off the ground.

 

Looking in the direction he'd come, Shepard's eyes widened as the would-be attackers got ever closer. The old man followed his gaze, scowled, and dragged the boy into the bar he'd just exited. The boy's sapphire eyes danced around frantically when he realized the room was full of marines. “Form up,” the old man said, with a death grip on the back of Johnny's jacket. “Some assholes are chasing this punk.”

 

The marines didn't hesitate, immediately forming a wall around him, the expression on their faces daring anyone to try to stop them. Shepard's heart was about to beat its way out of his chest. This was it. No matter what happened when the Snakes ran through that door, life as he knew it was over. If the Snakes didn't kill him, these marines wouldn't let him just return home as if nothing had happened, and failing either scenario, Ace would probably kill him for letting himself be caught. He searched for a way to escape the ring of marines and saw nothing. He was well and truly trapped. All he could do now was hope that his was some sort of god-awful nightmare and that he'd wake up soon.

 

Paco and Crete, the two Snakes members that were chasing him, burst through the door, scowling and searching for their quarry. They were drawn up short by the sight of so many marines in one place. The man who'd pulled Johnny into the bar stepped forward. “We don't want any trouble, but we don't mind making some. Why don't you boys just run on out of here now?”

 

“Just give us the boy and we'll be on our merry way,” Paco said. He was always the spokesman for the duo. Shepard actually wondered if Crete was mute as he'd never heard the mountain of a man make a sound other than to grunt. Paco's beady eyes narrowed on Shepard, and he could almost believe the man had a forked tongue when he licked his lips. His smile was slick and greasy, and Shepard's guts churned at the sight of his black teeth. Paco had spent too much time sampling the Snakes' merchandise.

 

“He's staying with me,” Gramps said, and Shepard gawked at the man. If he survived this day it would be a fucking miracle. He wanted to protest but somehow sensed that it would be a really fucking bad idea to open his mouth at the moment.

 

“We'll fight you for him,” Paco said, and Crete cracked a menacing smile and grunted.

 

“That's a bad idea, son,” Gramps told him, and the wall of marines stepped forward of one accord, letting the two young gangbangers know they meant business. Shepard saw Paco swallow, and had to suppress a grin. Secretly, he hoped that things would come to blows. If so, then perhaps he could slip out the back way while everyone else was distracted. If he could just get back to Ace with the money before things got out of control, then he'd be in the clear.

 

The wall of marines took a step forward, and Paco and Crete took a nervous step closer to the door. “You'll regret this, Shepard,” Paco said. “Mark my words! If you make it back to Ace and he doesn't kill you, then I promise you that the Snakes won't give up until you're meat!”

 

“Why don't you go fuck yourselves,” Shepard said, a little of his bravado finally returning. “Or better yet, go fuck each other!”

 

Crete growled and took a step forward. The marines advanced another step.

 

“One day that smart mouth's gonna get you into trouble, Shepard,” Paco spat, backing toward the door and pulling Crete along by his sleeve. “This isn't over, Johnny. Mark my fucking words!” The two rival gang members left the bar and took off down the street, and the entire group of marines turned to pin Shepard with a hard glare.

 

“Now,” Gramps said, glowering at Shepard, “why don't you tell me your story... Shepard, was it?”

 

The young man swallowed his nerves and jutted his chin out proudly. “I don't need no help,” he said. “I know how to take care of myself.”

 

“So I can see,” Gramps said dryly. “How about this... You tell me who you are and just what the hell is going on, and I won't call the police.”

 

Shepard cursed under his breath. He didn't have time for this bullshit. It would take less than an hour for word to travel the streets that he'd been marked – that he hadn't made it back to Ace with the money from the drug deal. Then there would be no way to remove the price from his head. “Look, Gramps... I appreciate you and your boys here saving me from an ass whipping, but I can't stay here. If I do then I'm a dead man. I got shit to do... obligations, you get me?”

 

“Drugs or drug money,” Gramps stated, unquestioning.

 

“Something like that. Those two assholes jumped me after a delivery, hoping for a quick score of cash. I got this shit that don't belong to me. I got to get it back to the owner, or they'll put a price on my fucking head. As much as I'd love to stay and chit chat, I'm afraid, I really can't.”

 

“I'm not letting you walk out that door son. You're either coming with me or going with the police. The choice is yours.”

 

“God _dammit_!” Shepard ran a hand over his dark, shorn hair. “Why the fuck do grown-ups always think they know what I need better than I do? I don't need no dad. I don't need to be helped. I just need to get on with my damn life before I lose my job... or worse. These ain't the kind of people I can just walk away from.”

 

“Where are your parents, son?”

 

“Dead.”

 

Gramps looked at him with a pitiful expression. “I'm sorry to hear that.”

 

“Don't fucking feel sorry for me! I don't need or want your damn pity. I just want you to let me the fuck out of here!” He was on the verge of screaming with rage. The clock was ticking – time running out. Paco and Crete were sure to have told the first people they came across that Shepard hadn't made it back with the money. Ace would be sending people after him in less than two hours. “Please. Let me go before your fucking pity gets me killed.”

 

The old man seemed to see the desperation in his face. “Tell you what. I'll go with you to deliver the money or whatever it is – and I don't want to know,” he added quickly, holding up a hand when the boy started to speak. “We'll all go with you to make sure they don't hurt you, and then you're coming with me.”

 

“I ain't going nowhere with you. I like my life. I want to keep it.”

 

“You'll be safe with me,” Gramps told him. “I don't live anywhere near here.”

 

“Where do you live?” he asked suspiciously.

 

“Arcturus.”

 

Shepard had never even been outside the city limits of Seattle. Arcturus seemed like a fairyland to him. “I ain't going to school,” he warned.

 

“Fine by me. You can do school at home.”

 

The boy glared at the man. “This is the most idiotic thing,” he sighed. “Tell you what, Gramps... you go with me to deliver this money and make one more pit stop to help a friend of mine, and I'll go with you to Arcturus or wherever the fuck you want... if we're both still alive at the end of the day. Deal?”

 

“Deal. My name is David Anderson. Commander David Anderson, Alliance Navy.”

 

“Shepard,” the boy said, sticking his hand out to shake. “John Shepard.”

 

“It's a very great pleasure to meet you, John Shepard.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Didi make their escape. 
> 
> No real warnings here.

_ Seattle, 2170 _

 

Shepard looked around to make sure the coast was clear. This was without doubt the dumbest fucking thing he'd ever done, but he hadn't forgotten his promise to Didi the night of his birthday to take the chance to get out if he ever saw it. This was his chance, and he was going to take it. But not without Didi. He'd decided to just drop the money in an envelope under Ace's door, and forego actually having to meet with the man. It was safer. He might actually live through the night this way. Tiptoeing to his room, he cleared out his measly possessions and his secret stash of credits, slipping Ace's money into an envelope and sneaking back down the stairs.

 

“Where is this other stop you have to make?” Gramps asked him.

 

“Pussy Cats. It's a strip club around the corner. Let me go in alone. I promise I'll come back out, but you have to promise to help me and my friend. If she can't go... I'm not going.”

 

“Fine,” Anderson told him. “Don't make me regret this. I'm choosing to trust you.”

 

“I made her a promise,” Shepard said. “I keep my promises. I promise I'll be back out. Just be ready to haul ass when I get back.”

 

The old man nodded at him and Shepard took off. Arriving at Pussy Cats, he slipped into the back door of the strip club. Didi was at her usual station behind the bar, and she grinned at him when he sidled up to her. “Come with me,” he whispered.

 

“Pretty Boy, you know I'm working. We'll have to get together later if you want some of that.” She winked.

 

Shepard ignored the little thrill that raced through him at her words. “I have have us a way out,” he said urgently. “But it has to be now.”

 

She eyed him suspiciously, then burst out in a fit of giggles. “Oh, you are so cute, Shepard.”

 

“I'm serious. There's a marine outside who wants to help us. Please trust me. I have to take this money to Ace. Get your shit out of the dressing room and meet me by the back door in five minutes.”

 

“John, you can't be serious. I can't leave. Ace will-”

 

“He's going to take us far away.” Shepard held up his pinky to Didi. “We promised, remember?”

 

Didi looped her pinky with his and nodded as tears sprang to her eyes.

 

“Don't be frightened Didi. I'm going to protect you. Now, go. Go!”

 

She nodded and slipped through the door to the dressing room. Shepard drew a steadying breath and headed up the stairs to Ace's office. All he had to do was slip the money under the door and haul ass out of there, and it would all be over. Never mind that he actually had no idea what in hell was waiting for him on Arcturus. Something told him he could trust Anderson. He'd developed a pretty good sense about people. Hopefully it wasn't going to lead him astray this time. At the top of the stairs, he crouched down, and crept toward the office door. Time spent on the streets, trying to be invisible, had taught him some valuable skills. He knew exactly where to put his feet to keep the floor from squeaking under his weight. Knew how low to crouch to keep his head below the office window.

 

He managed to reach the door without incident and slowly let out the breath he hadn't realized he was holding before slipping the envelope under the door. As quickly and quietly as he could, he turned tail and headed back toward the stairs. The door to the office opened, and Shepard jumped the last few stairs to the bottom, racing through the club and knocking both patrons and dancers over in his haste to get to the door.

 

Thankfully, Didi was waiting for him, glancing around nervously. Her eyes widened in terror as she saw him racing toward her. “Let's go,” he hissed, just as one of Ace's goons came barreling around the corner after them. Snatching Didi's hand up in his own, he yanked her through the door and started shouting for Anderson. “Let's go! Let's go!”

 

The old man was surprisingly nimble and light on his feet, and the three of them raced through the alleyway to the waiting skycar that Anderson had procured for them. Shepard pushed Didi into it, grimacing as she cursed at him for breaking the heel of her shoe, then he dove in after her. “Get us the fuck out of here, gramps!”

 

Anderson didn't need to be told twice. “Who's your friend?” the old man asked as he steered them seamlessly into traffic.

 

“Didi, this is Anderson. Anderson, Didi.”

 

“She's a stripper?”

 

“And a hooker, honey. If you need me to pay you back...”

 

“That... won't be necessary,” Anderson said. “Our shuttle leaves in thirty minutes. Think we can lose your goons in that amount of time?”

 

“I sure as fuck hope so,” Shepard said, peering out the back window. “Why the hell are you doing this, old man?”

 

“You looked like you could use the help,” Anderson said quietly. “I hope I don't live to regret it.”

 

“Me too.” 

 

The ride was spent in tense silence. Shepard alternated between stealing glances at Didi to make sure she was okay and peering out the back windshield to be sure they weren’t being followed. Anderson kept flicking his gaze at the pair of them in the rearview mirror. 

 

Eventually, Didi leaned her head against John’s chest and began to cry, softly. Shepard held her tight against him, whispering to her that everything would be all right. He only hoped that wasn’t a lie.

 

“She's a little conspicuous in that get up,” Anderson said, indicating Didi with his thumb as they pulled into the parking garage of the transport hub.

 

“This is my best outfit, I'll have you know,” the said through her sniffles.

 

“And it's quite lovely,” Anderson informed her while Shepard laughed.

 

“Here, Didi, put one of my t-shirts on at least,” John told her, digging in his bag and pulling out shirt with the logo of a local punk band on it.

 

“Why're you doing this Pretty Boy?” she murmured when Anderson was out of earshot.

 

“Because we promised each other that we'd get out if the opportunity arose,” he said heatedly. “I keep my promises, Didi. Besides... you told me once that you hoped I could save you, and... I wasn't going to leave you behind.”

 

“Thank you, Johnny,” she said with tears in her eyes.

 

“Come on. Put this on, and let's get the fuck out of here before Ace comes looking for us.”

 

The trio made their way to the waiting shuttle. John had never flown before – never had a need to. He was antsy as they strapped themselves in. He thought Didi looked a little worse for the wear as well. Shepard kept his head down through most of the flight, suddenly afraid that he'd made some grievous mistake. What if Anderson was hauling them off to be slaves or into another gang or into the woods to murder them? Trying to be rational, Shepard drew a deep breath. If all he wanted to do was murder them, he'd had plenty of opportunity. Though the other two options were a possibility, he supposed, but Shepard knew how to defend himself. If worse came to worst, he'd knock the old man out and take Didi somewhere no one would ever find them.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shepard makes just one more promise. 
> 
> No warnings.

_ Arcturus Station, 2170 _

 

Shepard followed Didi into a small apartment near Alliance HQ on Arcturus Station. It was cleaner than any place he’d been in since his days in foster care. Though most of the homes he'd stayed in were little better than roach motels. He suddenly felt very out of place, and looking at Didi, he guessed that she did to.

 

“I only have one guest room,” Anderson informed them.

 

“We’ll share,” Shepard said quickly, raising his chin as if daring the old man to argue with him.

 

The old man raised an eyebrow, but didn't say anything. “You kids hungry?”

 

“Starved,” they said in unison. Anderson chuckled and ordered Chinese take out for the three of them.

 

“Tomorrow, we'll take Didi shopping for some more... respectable clothing. Do either of you have any education to speak of?”

 

“I was in school till I was ten,” Shepard admitted, “but... I didn't do good.”

 

“I've always been on the streets, honey,” Didi informed him. “My education comes from the school of hard knocks. Can I smoke in this fancy pad?”

 

“I'd rather you didn't,” Anderson said. “You're welcome to use the balcony, though.” He waited until the young woman was outside to turn to Shepard. “What's the deal with you two?”

 

“She's my friend,” John said defensively.

 

“Not your, um...”

 

“I love her if that’s what you’re asking,” he said and his voice sounded petulant to his own ears. If he was trying to impress the marine, he could tell it wasn’t working. “We’ve been friends since I was thirteen and she was sixteen. I couldn’t leave her there. She’s only nineteen, and it's not fair the things that Ace did to her... made her do.”

 

“And how old are you?”

 

“Sixteen,” Shepard held his head high. Maybe he was young, and maybe his life wasn’t one he should be proud of, but dammit, he’d earned respect because he’d survived where others had not. He wasn’t going to bend at all for this man. 

 

“And what exactly is it that you're planning to do with your life, John Shepard?”

 

“Hell if I know. I had planned on running drugs for the rest of it until you showed up,” he huffed and rested his cheek on his hand. “Never allowed myself to think of any other possibilities.”

 

“Well, you've got all the possibilities in the world, here, John. You can go to school or-”

 

“I ain't going to school! I told you that when we was in Seattle!”

 

“You might change your mind. Have you thought about the military?”

 

“Hell no! I'd rather flip burgers.”

 

“Well, that's a start. Do you have a birth certificate?”

 

“I mean... I got one. I had parents once upon a time, but... I don't know where it is.”

 

“But we could order it from Seattle?”

 

“Yeah... I guess.”

 

“Fine. Let's not worry about the future tonight, huh? For tonight, let's eat dinner and get you two settled. Tomorrow, we can make plans.”

 

**

 

Despite the fact that these were two street-wisened teens, it was patently obvious to Anderson that they were both still children – forced to grow up before their time. The two of them sat on the couch during the after-dinner movie, giggling and making inappropriate comments the entire time. He was tempted to be exasperated with them, but remembered that this may have been the first time in their entire lives where they could just sit and watch a movie and be kids without worrying about the next job. A pang of regret pierced him as he thought of all the two of them had missed out on.

 

Full and happy, the three of them prepared for bed. Didi disappeared into the guest room while Shepard ducked into the bathroom. He came out in an old rock and roll t-shirt and a pair of shorts. Seeing him like this now made him seem so much more vulnerable than he had up till this point. Before him stood a child, forced to act like a man. Anderson had never been accused of being a bleeding heart, but something deep within him resonated with this street urchin. He found himself wanting to take the boy under his wing – to care for him, give him a better life. Shepard would probably have laughed his ass off if he could have heard those thoughts. As it was, Anderson kept them to himself, and bid the boy good night. 

 

In the morning, the group of them went to a local diner for breakfast. Didi thankfully had a pair of jeans and had borrowed another one of Shepard's t-shirts. She wore less makeup and had pulled her thick, curly locks into a simple pony tail, and she finally looked like a nineteen year old girl instead of a twenty five year old hooker as she'd looked the day before.

 

Both kids ate a surprising amount of food before they were willing to talk to Anderson about what they might want to do with themselves. “I'd be willing to join the Alliance,” Didi said after a puff on the long cigarette between her fingers. “Just think of all those dicks!”

 

Shepard laughed and rolled his eyes. “You'd be terrible in the military, Didi.”

 

“And, ahem, there are regulations against that sort of thing,” Anderson interjected.

 

“Well, damn. Way to burst a girl's bubble. Still... I think I'd be better at it than you give me credit for, Pretty Boy.”

 

“You're so full of shit, Didi. There's no way in hell that you'd ever join the Alliance,” Shepard said, crossing his arms over his chest and mock-glaring at the girl.

 

“The hell I won't! You just sit there on that cute little ass of yours and watch me! Where do I sign up, pops?” She looked at Anderson expectantly.

 

“You'd be willing to join the Alliance on a dare?” Anderson asked her.

 

“Damn right I would. I think I'd make a hell of a soldier!”

 

“If you join, then I'll join,” Shepard said with a glint in his eye.

 

“Done. Pops, take me to the recruitment station,” Didi told him, snuffing out her cigarette and heading for the door.

 

“Is she serious?”

 

“I think so,” Shepard said in awe. “Come on! Let's go see if she'll go through with it!” The boy seemed to be receiving an odd sort of glee from the fact that his friend was talking about joining the Alliance. Anderson wasn't sure the girl quite had what it took, but who was he to judge. This might be her one chance to make something of herself.

 

“Alright,” he held up his hands in surrender, and followed Shepard out the door. He took the kids to the recruiters office at HQ, and to both his and Shepard's surprise, she filled out all the paperwork, presenting them with her birth certificate. Before she signed the papers, however, she turned to John and held out her pinky.

 

“You promise, now, Pretty Boy. If we're doing this, we're doing it together, right?”

 

“I can't join for two more years, Didi.”

 

“But you will, right? On your eighteenth birthday?”

 

Shepard squared his shoulders and held his chin out before looping his pinky with hers. “Promise!”

 

“You sure about this, son? Just last night, you said you'd rather flip burgers than join the military.” Anderson said, and Shepard nearly glared at him.

 

“I already promised,” he said, and watched with a huge grin as his friend signed the paper and passed it to the recruiter.

 

“When do I leave?” Didi asked.

 

“The Alliance will contact you in the next two weeks,” the recruiter said. “In the meantime, you'll need to report to the Alliance medical center for a physical.” The recruiter passed her a form with orders for an exam on it.

 

“Might as well get that over with. Ace made us take a test every month, so I know I'm not preggers and I don't have no diseases.”

 

Shepard smiled fondly at her and wrapped a protective arm around her shoulder. “Come on. I'll walk with you.”

 

“You've always been the sweetest person I've ever known, Johnny.”

 

“Ah, cut it out, Didi. Now you're just trying to get in my pants.” He bumped her with his hip and chuckled as Anderson followed behind them shaking his head. They were certainly an odd pair, but Anderson suspected they had no clue what a normal, healthy relationship looked like. 

 

Two weeks later, the trio stood at the transport hub awaiting Didi's shuttle to boot camp. She looked good in an Alliance uniform, but Shepard seemed distraught. The girl stepped close to him, wrapping her arms around his waist and resting her head on his chest. “I'm gonna miss you, Pretty Boy.”

 

“I'm gonna miss you too, Didi. Write me, okay?”

 

“I will,” she held up her pinky to him, and he looped his around it. “Promise.”

 

“Stallings?” One of the officers with a datapad in hand shouted, “Deirdre Stallings?”

 

“That's me!” She shouted, and before she could get away, Shepard grabbed her, pulling her into his arms. She looked up at him, cupping his cheek and brought their lips together for a deep kiss. “Don't forget about me, Johnny Shepard.”

 

“Never,” he whispered, lip quivering. “Promise.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! 
> 
> Find me on Tumblr: [ellebeedarling](http://ellebeedarling.tumblr.com)
> 
> Much love,  
> Elle


End file.
